


At least my heart was open

by mrsyt31



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsyt31/pseuds/mrsyt31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a time when Harry thought he and Nick were invincible, that there was nothing in the world that could come between them. He should have known better. "I'm in love with him, Gem," he tells her, takes a deep breath and huffs it back out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At least my heart was open

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started writing this during Harry's January LA exile. It sort of follows the canon timeline for that time period.
> 
> Thanks to mouse55 for the beta/britpick. Any remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies.
> 
> And as always, this is for Cass, who gets me no matter how crazy I get. All the sweet potato emoji for you, dear.

***********************************

At Least My Heart Was Open

 

_Oh, I was far from you_  
But I tried to do what I felt was right  
And I know I fucked it up sometimes  
But at least my heart was open  
You’re the one to cross the line  
But you could not go the extra mile  
So I did what you were hoping  
And at least my heart was open 

Foy Vance, _At least my heart was open_

***

He doesn't mean to stay as long as he does. Gemma told him that running away wouldn't help, and he knew she was right. But how could he have stayed when everything in London reminded him of Nick? LA seemed like the best alternative at the time.

And really, Harry was foolish to think what he and Nick had could ever be anything more. "A part time shag is not enough for me. It's time I found a proper boyfriend," Nick had said, but all Harry had heard is 'I don't want you. You're not enough.' Harry isn't in a place in his career where he can be home in England very much, away on tour or doing promo a lot of the time. Nick wants a 'real' relationship, with someone who can openly and honestly share his life, and he'd made it quite clear that he didn't think that Harry was that person. 

"It was fun, Harry," Nick had told him. "You were really great, putting up with me and all." It felt more like he was saying 'I don't need you anymore'. So Harry had packed up the bits of his life that were littered across Nick's flat and walked away with his stomach in knots and his heart in his throat. 

Yeah. LA was definitely the best way to put some distance between himself and the bits of his shattered heart that he'd left behind on Nick's doorstep.

So, Harry had said goodbye to his mum and Gemma and put himself on the very next flight to California. He figures LA is a safe choice because he doesn't have any memories with Nick there, doesn't have to worry about seeing Nick's face on every corner, or hearing his laugh in the west coast surf when Harry goes for his morning run on the beach. (And maybe these things happen anyway, because he can't seem to escape Nick's hold on him no matter how far he runs.)

He stays with Cal at first. He feels safe there, and Cal doesn't ask questions, knows that Harry will talk if and when he's ready. But Cal is still too close, knows too much about _HarryandNick_ , so Harry is really grateful when Kendall calls. 

"Hey, pal," she says to Harry's voicemail. "Heard you're in town for a couple of weeks, which is weird, because I thought you'd be locked away with your boy? But anyways, I'm staying with my dad at the beach house and he said you should come and hide out here, if you want to. Call me back!" Kendall's been a good friend to him, and he knows he doesn't deserve her, but he calls her and accepts the offer just the same. 

"You sure you're alright?" Cal asks when Harry's throwing his collection of skinny jeans and ripped up checked shirts back into his overnight bag. 

"Yeah, I just. Think I need to give you and Jen some space, spend some time with people my own age for a change." He forces a smile on his face when he says it, but can't quite meet Cal's eyes. He knows Cal gets it, though, if the way he pulls Harry into a brief, one armed hug is to go by. 

“Look,” Cal says cautiously. “I dont really know what happened back home, and I don’t need you to tell me. But that Grimshaw is a crazy fool if he just let you walk away.”

“Thanks, mate.” He still can’t look Cal in the eyes, knowing the sympathy that he’ll most likely find there. “And thanks again, for letting me stay here.”

“You’re always welcome here, Harry. You know that.”

Harry climbs into his vintage Mercedes and waves one last goodbye, and then he's headed to Kendall's. It's almost better there, in a way, because his friendship with Kendall is something completely separate from his life in London, and it makes it easier to forget for a while. She doesn't push, just drags Harry out surfing (which he is terrible at) or to dinner, never flinching when the paps follow them around or Harry's fans tweet horrible things to her. She really is amazing, and once again Harry is grateful to her for giving him this time and space to just decompress. He's almost _relaxed_ , right up until he gets a call from Alexa reminding him that she and Pixie and George are in town for a bit and would love to spend some time with him.

They were Nick's friends first, but they've become Harry's friends too and he's so thankful for that, even if it hurts right now. He tries not to cry when Pixie yells, "POPSTAR!" from across the pool deck, and again when Alexa folds him in her arms and tells him how glad they are that he came. 

"We still love you, Harry," Alexa says quietly a little while later when they're all sat by the pool with a new round of drinks. "Just because you and Nick are over doesn't mean we stopped caring, yeah?"

Harry just nods into his glass, taking a sip and setting it back on the table. He swallows hard, trying to find his voice. "Is he - Nick. How is he?" He just happens to look up and catch Alexa and Pixie exchange a look, and he swears he can feel the moment his heart drops into the pit of his stomach. 

"Just tell me," he says, his voice breaking just a bit where his throat's suddenly gone dry. His eyes dart back and forth between the two, waiting for one of them to say something. George stands up, giving Harry a gentle pat in the shoulder before he heads over to the bar for another round of drinks.

It's Pixie who finally speaks up. "I think maybe he's gone off the deep end, a bit? I mean, he went on dates with three different blokes the week after you left, so I sort of assumed you'd done the breaking up, and that he was trying to get you out of his system or summat. But when I tried to talk to him about it he said that it was his decision to end things with you, and seeing you now, I know it must be true. I just don't really understand why? I mean, you seemed happy together."

Harry laughs humorlessly. "Pretty hard to break up with someone you were never properly together with, innit?"

"That's absolute bullshit, Harry, and you know it," Alexa answers, grabbing Harry's hand and giving it a squeeze. 

Harry shakes his head. "Is it though? I thought we had a chance, but he made it seem like i was just a friend who he shagged on a semi-regular basis. Fuck. He told me he was ready to find a 'proper boyfriend' and that we shouldn't be sleeping together. What was I supposed to think?" His voice sounds thick and watery to his own ears, and his eyes burn from trying to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I don't want to drag you into this. Can we just, I don't know. Can we just have a swim, maybe a few more drinks and just forget about all of this?"

It's a testament to the kind of friends they are that they let it slide and try and help to make the afternoon fun. When day begins to stretch into evening, he says goodbye to them all with cheek kisses for the girls and a handshake for George, promising to stay in touch and to see each other again soon. 

Alexa pulls him aside before he can head back to his car. She gathers him into a tight hug and says softly, "For what it's worth, I think you're wrong."

"About what?" he asks, even though he's pretty sure he knows.

"About Nick. I think, well. I know he cares for you, and I'm pretty sure he's at least a little bit in love with you, but -" She stops and sighs, sounding resigned. "If you ever tell him I said this I will deny it 'til the grave. But I think, deep down, Nick is still that insecure teenage boy, yeah? And like, to him, you're this unattainable thing. I’m not saying he's right. I'm just saying, that if you really love him, and I'm sure that you do, then you need to tell him, Harry. Because he's never going to believe it unless you _make_ him."

Alexa hugs him again and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you," Harry tells her, pulling away in the direction of the car park. He doesn't say anything else for fear that he'll start to cry. The heavy weight that's churning in his gut stays with him long after he's driven away.

***

He spends the next couple of weeks at the beach, sometimes hanging out with Kendall and her friends, but mostly just keeping to himself, enjoying the fresh air and warm sunshine that LA provides. He even has dinner one night with Ed and Taylor at her place while they're both in town for the Grammys. It's nice, having the time to catch up with his friends, all of them having been scattered across the globe for the last several months.

Before he even realizes it, Harry's been in LA for nearly a month. Much longer than he'd planned, but not long enough when he thinks on the prospect of London and all it entails. He knows he has to go back, since he'd promised his family he'd be home for his birthday. Maybe he can hide out a little while longer if he goes straight through to Holmes Chapel. 

Kendall has to fly to New York on Thursday for a photo shoot and a few appearances, so he goes with her. They say goodbye at the terminal, where Harry will board a later flight to Manchester. Kendall gives him a quick hug and tells him, "I hope you find whatever it is you're searching for, Harry."

"Me too," he replies with a squeeze to her hand.

***

It's about eight am in England when he finally lands in Manchester. He'll have to wait a bit for his car service, but that's alright; they have a first class lounge where he can wait, and he's got at least a hundred texts to scroll through. He starts by letting the boys know he's back in England, and will be in touch soon. 

There's nothing there from Nick; he wasn't expecting there to be. But there is a text from Daisy inviting Harry to her fancy dress birthday party on Saturday. 

_I know it's your birthday on Saturday, but if you're in town, I'm hosting a 70s themed party. Would love to see you.  
Sorry to hear about you and Grimmy xx_

He won't go. He's not ready to be in London, much less in the same room as Nick when he's got some new boy on his arm. He sends off a quick text to Daisy, thanking her for the invite and letting her know that he's still out of town. Beyond that, no one else needs to know his exact location.

His mum is waiting when the car drops him at her front door. He hadn't even thought to text her with an arrival time, but she's always had a bit of a sixth sense when it comes to her children.

"So glad you're home, love," she murmurs, rubbing his back in that soothing way that mothers do. "Although I wish you looked like you'd actually gotten some rest while you were away."

“Missed you, mum,” he replies. “But I could do with a bit of a nap, to be honest.”

She laughs, and he thinks for just a moment, that maybe this is what he needed all along. She hugs him and sends him off to his old room, with a promise of his favorite dinner later on. 

Harry's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he wakes, Nick's words are fresh in his mind. 

_Let's not pretend this was more than what it really was, alright Harry?_

It's not the first time he's dreamt of Nick since their last meeting, and he's sure it won't be the last. He just wishes it didn't still hurt quite so much.

He runs his hands through his hair, thinking distractedly that he needs a shower, and pulls on a pair of trackies and the jumper he left on the bedpost when he was home at Christmas. It's Nick's jumper and it still smells faintly of him. Harry's not sure that wearing Nick's jumper is conducive to getting over him, but it's warm and feels like home. It's a bit pathetic, if he thinks about it too much.

Harry's birthday is the next day, and it's nice. It's just the three of them because Gemma couldn't make it home, but Harry's got plans to meet her later in the week when he goes back to London. He's still dreading it, honestly, but Gemma threatened him with bodily harm if he stayed away much longer. His mum's made a cake, which seems a bit silly since there's not more people, but he's grateful. 

When he blows out the candles his mum smiles. "What did you wish for, baby?"

The only thing in the world he wants is Nick, already has everything else he could ever need, but he doesn't tell her that. "If I tell you my wish, then it won't come true."

He tries to just relax and enjoy his time at home, but he's restless. There's this itch under his skin, almost like just being in the same country as Nick is too much when Harry knows he can't have him. It's so quiet in Holmes Chapel, no city white noise to drown out the thoughts in his head, but he can't be in London, not until he absolutely has to be.

James calls him that night to wish him a happy birthday. "How's the country treating you?"

"Too much quiet," Harry says honestly.

"Well," James replies. "Gary and I are leaving to Jamaica tomorrow. Rented a place for a proper lads holiday. If you're not ready to face the city yet, you could always join us."

"Really? Because that would be. Yeah. I think that would be perfect." His mum and Robin will understand, and they’ll be down to London in a couple of weeks anyway, to help him settle into the house once the contractors have cleared out. Yes, this is what he needs. Just a few more days before he has to face the reality of London.

Harry's reminded once again of how great his friends really are.

**

Gemma's waiting at the curb when his car pulls up on Friday afternoon. 

"Short trip," she says, throwing her arms around his neck. 

"Needed it," he answers. He's missed her, hasn't seen her since just before the new year other than FaceTime and Skype. "You look good. London life agrees with you."

"And you look like you could use a good washing up," she teases, ruffling his hair before she leads him up the stairs to her flat. "Sam's off with some friends, so it's just the two of us tonight."

"That sounds great, actually. Could use a quiet night in."

Once they're both inside, Gemma shuts the door and asks, "You sure you're alright?"

"Not really." He doesn't know what else to say. It's the truth, and he's never been able to lie to Gemma. She knows him far too well. "Pretty shit, actually. But can we not talk about it right now?"

Gemma looks at him appraisingly. "Alright then. Go have your shower and I'll order in a curry. There's beer in the fridge, or wine if you'd rather?"

"You're the best, Gem," Harry murmurs, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head.

"Yeah, yeah. Go wash up. You smell like a baboon’s arse."

**

"How was Jamaica?" Gemma asks as she pours the last dregs of the wine into Harry's glass.

"Jamaica was good. Guess I needed it."

"You done running, then?" The way she looks at him with one raised eyebrow says she really does know him better than just about anyone.

"Can't hide away from the real world forever, can I?"

"Good. I talked to Grim yesterday."

Harry startles, his head jerking up towards Gemma's face at the same time that his heart seems to drop into his stomach.

"Now, now," she tuts. "Don't look at me like that. You know that we're friends, just like you're still friends with Aimee and Pix and Alexa. Don't think I didn't see the pictures of you poolside with them in America. I gave him a call to check up on him and see how he's been doing."

"And what did he say?" He asks because he can't _not_ , even if he's not sure he's ready for the answer. He hopes the eagerness he feels doesn't come through in his voice. If it does, Gemma's kind enough to keep it to herself.

"Not much, really," she answers thoughtfully. "He asked after you, though. Wanted to know if you were back in London." Harry just nods, hoping that Gemma's not expecting a reply, because he doesn't have one. "I think he misses you. Surely the two of you can salvage your friendship?"

There was a time when Harry thought he and Nick were invincible, that there was nothing in the world that could come between them. He should have known better. "I'm in love with him, Gem," he tells her, takes a deep breath and huffs it back out.

She reaches for his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "I know you are, but have you told Nick?"

Harry laughs, humorless. "Doesn't matter. He doesn't want me like that."

"Harry," she replies with a hint of sympathy in her soft voice. "This is Nick we're talking about. How can you be sure that he's not using rejection to mask his own insecurities?"

Gemma's the second person to tell him that. The thing is, he always thought that he and Nick had no secrets between them. He'd prided himself on the fact that they were always completely honest with each other. But looking back, he realizes that he had kept the most important truth to himself in not revealing his true feelings to Nick when they'd started sleeping together. Maybe Nick had been keeping secrets of his own.

"Just think on it, alright? You're miserable, Grim's miserable. You're both so unhappy right now and I _hate_ it."

He knows she’s right, she’s _always_ right, and he has been thinking about it. He can’t really think about anything else, to be honest. He just wishes he knew what to do about it.

**

It only takes three days. 

The first is spent hiding out with Gemma at her flat. They drink wine and order takeaway and spend hours in front of the telly, watching every cheesy romantic comedy they can find. 

The second day, Harry goes to Niall’s to watch a footie match. He brings a couple of pizzas, and they get drunk on Jameson. It’s not usually Harry’s drink of choice, but it does the trick. He manages to make it through most of the evening before he starts blubbering on about how much he misses Nick. Niall’s is kind enough to not offer any advice, just puts him to bed in the guest room and lets him sleep it off. In the morning, he makes Harry some tea and a bacon sarnie. 

"Think you need to have a proper talk with Grimmy, mate." 

"You’re not the first person to say that,” Harry sighs, scrubs his hands over his face and then through his hair. “I know you're right, I just. I'm not sure it will do any good, is all."

Niall looks at him appraisingly. “Well, lets look at it this way, you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain, yeah? Like, if you tell him everything and he turns you down, then you’re no worse off than y'are right now. But, what if he feels the same as you?”

"That's a pretty big 'what if', Nialler."

Niall just shrugs and gives him a knowing grin. "I don't think it's as big as you're making it out to be."

Niall's words stay with Harry throughout the day. He goes to Ben and Mer's because Gemma's working, and his own place is still a construction zone. They're both out, but he has a key because, technically he's still living with them until his place is finished. 

He mostly tries to keep busy, pottering around the house doing little things to keep his mind off Nick. It's not really working, though, because he can't stop playing their last conversation over in his head on a continuous loop. Harry had thought that they were headed toward something, but Nick had said they should stop sleeping together, and that he wanted a proper boyfriend. 

And that's the part that Harry can't shake off. Nick said he wanted a relationship, and Harry had never told him that he thought they were in one. He'd never told Nick how he felt, he'd just let Nick's rejection pull him under, and he'd walked away without letting Nick see how much it hurt. 

He starts thinking about the things that Alexa, Gemma, and Niall had said to him. About Nick's insecurities, how they'd never really _talked_ about what they'd been doing. But mostly about the fact that Harry had never really been honest with Nick. Maybe Niall was right, maybe they were _all_ right and Harry just needed to talk to Nick and tell him the truth. After all, what _did_ he have to lose? 

Before he can stop himself, Harry's grabbed his keys and is in his Range Rover, driving to Nick's flat. He has to park a few streets down and walk the rest of the way, but that's okay because he still doesn't know what he's going to say. His thoughts are all jumbled up in his head with the only constant being a litany of _NickNickNick_. 

He knocks on Nick's door before he can talk himself out of it, his heart thudding in his chest while he waits. His throat is dry, suddenly, and when the door opens and there's Nick stood in front of him in a rumpled t-shirt and joggers with his hair a mess and his glasses on, Harry just. He feels just the same as he did the night he left, heartbroken and a little bit angry.

"Harry? What - "

"I wasn't pretending," Harry says quietly, the words nearly caught in his throat.

"Harry, it's a bloody _monsoon_ out, get in here before you catch your death."

Nick's moving through the flat, mumbling something about _bloody ridiculous popstars_ , and it suddenly occurs to Harry that his clothes are drenched through to his skin and his teeth are chattering with cold, his coat clearly forgotten in his hurry to get to Nick. He'd not even noticed it had started raining. Nick walks back into the room holding two towels, one he wraps around Harry's shoulders and with the other he starts to meticulously dry Harry's hair. "You going to tell me why you're out wandering Primmers in this weather?"

Harry swallows hard, staring at Nick while he continues to try and get Harry dry. "You. You said we shouldn't pretend, but. I wasn't pretending."

Nick stops what he's doing, just for a second, and glances up at Harry, not quite meeting his eyes. "Not sure what you're on about, pop star," he replies, resuming his task.

"Nick," Harry whines as he takes Nick by the wrist. "Don't do that. Don't brush me off like that."

Nick pulls his wrist out of Harry's grasp and pushes the towel into Harry's hands. He takes a step back and crosses his arms, a defensive gesture that Harry's seen him do a hundred times, but never directed at him. It strengthens his resolve a bit, makes him even more sure that what Gem and Alexa had said was true. He takes a deep breath to steady his nerves and keeps his eyes trained on Nick's face, even as Nick's are boring into the floor at his feet.

"The thing is," Harry says, "is that I realized something these last few weeks. The last time I was here, I let you do all the talking, make all the decisions, and I went along with it because I didn't think I had a choice. But I did, I _do_ , and I can't leave here again without being totally honest with you."

"Haz -"

"No, Nick. Just listen, okay? I meant it when I said I wasn't pretending before. I just." Harry sighs, the adrenaline rush from earlier leaving him feeling raw and defenseless. This is his moment of truth, and he has to get it right. It's his last chance.

"I love you, is the thing. I'm in love with you, and I'm pretty sure I never told you that. But I do, _I am_ , and running away to California or wherever else isn't going to change that. God, I hurt so much that I couldn't even be in the same city with you. But I don't want to keep running, Nick. I just want to be here with you, for as long as I can."

Nick's still not looking at him, but Harry can see that Nick's biting his lip, a slight hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Harry takes a tentative step closer, and when Nick doesn't move away, he takes another. He's close enough now to touch, and _god_ , he wants to. "Nick," he murmurs, reaching up and laying his hand over where Nick's heart is near pounding in his chest. "Say something."

Nick laughs, a choked off, strangled sound but he's smiling for real now so Harry's not too worried. He glances up and just barely meets Harry's gaze with watery eyes before looking away again, almost shyly. He puts his hand over Harry's on Nick's chest and weaves their fingers together. "It was real, for me," he says quietly. "I tried so hard to pretend it was casual, but."

Nick looks up at him and his expression is serious when he says, "Nothing about the way I feel for you has ever been casual."

That's enough for Harry to slide his free hand around the back of Nick's neck, drawing him close so their foreheads are pressed together. His other hand is still clinging to Nick's, the fabric of his shirt bunched up tightly between Harry's fingers. Nick's free hand has made its way to cup Harry's jaw, and he whines, low in his throat as he tilts his head up and presses his lips tentatively against Nick's mouth. They've done this a hundred times before, but it might as we'll be the first, for all Harry feels every inch of his skin raise up in goose bumps. 

"Tell me," he whispers. "Tell me that this is okay, that you want me here."

"God, you're an idiot," Nick laughs. He kisses Harry again, more insistently this time, and nuzzles against Harry's cheek when he pulls away. "I always want you here, Hazza. I just never - I never thought I could really have you, not the way I wanted to have you."

Harry smiles into the crook of Nick's shoulder. "We're both idiots," he says. "I can't remember a time when I didn't want you, _all of you_. When I left here last time, I just kept thinking that I'd been so stupid. S'why I went to LA."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry." Nick looks so sad and Harry hates it. He doesn't ever want to see Nick look like that.

"Don't," Harry replies. "I'm back, now, and I just. I've missed you, and I want you _so much_. Can we just? God, _Nick_. I just need to feel you, feel like this isn't a dream. Can we do that?" He knows he's possibly not making any sense, but he can't even think straight right now. 

"Yeah, we can do that, popstar. But first, let's get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up a bit, yeah?" He helps Harry out of his shoes, then takes him by the hand, leading him down the hall to Nick's bathroom. He turns the water on for the shower, and then begins to strip off Harry's wet clothing. 

Harry shivers at the attention, the way Nick carefully lifts Harry's shirt over his head, grazing his hands over Harry's ribs. The way he's so focused as he undoes Harry's flies and slowly peels his jeans and pants off, going down on his knees to tug off Harry's socks as Harry steps out one leg at a time. There's nothing overtly sexual about it, but Harry's half hard just watching the way Nick is so gentle with him. The feeling only intensifies when Nick stands and meets Harry's eyes, never breaking his gaze while he removes his own clothes. 

Nick steps in close and takes Harry's face in his hands, brushes his thumbs lightly over Harry's cheekbones. Harry leans into the touch, closes his eyes, and sighs when Nick presses a tender kiss to each of his eyelids. 'C'mon, love. Let's get you in the shower." 

He let's Nick lead him by the wrist, checking the water temperature before he maneuvers Harry under the spray. Harry leans his head back and let's the water warm him, head to toe. He's got his hands on Nick's hips, wanting nothing more than to keep him close.

They've spent enough time apart.

He sighs when Nick starts to lather his hair, long fingers massaging away the tension Harry's been carrying for weeks. They'd been shagging off and on for nearly two years, but it's never felt as intimate as this. For as much as Harry wears his heart on his sleeve, Nick rarely let's anyone see his vulnerability, and Harry can see now how much Nick has been holding back. He's always been sort of careful with Harry, but this is different. Harry feels _cared for_ , and the difference makes his chest squeeze tight with the emotion. 

"I love you," he murmurs, letting his head fall forward to place a kiss over Nick's heart.

"Yeah?" Nick asks, pushing Harry gently back under the spray to rinse the soap from his hair. "You going to go all sappy on me now?"

"Might do. S'that alright?" He's smiling when he says it, and when Nick meets his eyes, a slow grin spreads across his face.

"Yeah. S'alright." He cradles Harry's head in his hands, his ridiculously long fingers weaving through the wet strands of Harry's hair, and Harry can't help but think of other things they could be doing with those fingers right now.

Nick doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry though, leaning in to kiss Harry on the mouth, slow at first, and then with more intent when he pushes his way in, slow and dirty as he sucks at Harry's tongue. Harry whines, low in his throat when Nick pulls away. 

He rests his forehead against Harry's, and rubs gentle circles with his thumbs at the corner of Harry's jaw. Harry's eyes are closed, so focused on where Nick is touching him that he almost misses it when Nick murmurs, "I love you, too, Harry." He can't stop the smile that breaks across his face at Nick's words. When he opens his eyes, Nick is watching him, almost nervous, as if he's still unsure of Harry's reaction, even now.

"Just thought you should know. Yeah. So, there's that."

Harry laughs and pulls Nick in for another kiss. 

Somehow, they manage to get out of the shower and dried off without breaking their necks, which is a feat, considering the way they stumble back to Nick's bedroom. They're a tangle of arms and legs, Harry trying to move them backwards towards the bed, but having to stop every two seconds to kiss Nick, or rub their bodies together. It really isn't a surprise, when they finally get there, that Harry trips, falling splayed out on his back in the center of Nick's bed, with Nick landing on top of him, giggling like an idiot. 

When they both finally catch their breath, Nick's watching Harry, and brushes his fingers across Harry's cheek. "You look tired, popstar," he says, biting his lip and looking concerned. "Are you sure -"

Harry stops him with a kiss to the mouth, and then kisses his way along Nick's jaw. "It's been _weeks_ , babe. S'all I can think about." He punctuates it with a nip at Nick's ear, then sucks gently at the spot just below it that he knows drives Nick crazy. He's not disappointed when Nick gasps, and the slight roll of his hips just spurs Harry on. 

"Missed this. Missed your cock in my arse." Nick's got his hand in Harry's hair now, and he's pulling it just the way Harry likes. Harry couldn't stop now even if he wanted to. He _really_ doesn't want to. 

Nick is naked on top of him, and Harry's near rubbing off on his leg, and he _wants_. He just needs for Nick to be on the same page. "Want you to fuck me, _Nick_. You fuck me so good, always take care of me. Want you, only you, Nick, _please_."

Something in Nick must break, because he pulls Harry by the hair and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. He's holding him with both hands now, just keeping Harry still so he can take what he wants and Harry loves it, slides his knees up around Nick's hips, pulling him closer still. Nick shifts on top of him so that his cock slips between Harry's cheeks, and Harry can't help the noise he makes. It's so good, even just that slow drag over his sensitive skin makes him crazy with need.

" _Nick_."

"You want it, darling? Want me to fill you up? Fuck you so hard you won't even remember your own name?"

"Yes, _please_ , oh my god."

Nick drops his face against Harry's shoulder and mutters _fuck_. Harry's chest is still heaving, but he slides his fingers through Nick's hair and scratches at his scalp. It helps soothe them both, which is good, because Harry is teetering on the edge, and he doesn't want this to be over before it's even started. 

Nick must be thinking the same thing, because with a tap to Harry's hip, hit sits up and says, "Roll over, then. Think I'd like to play with you a bit first."

With a moan, Harry turns on to his stomach, burrowing his face into the pillow as Nick gets up to fumble through his bedside drawer, presumably for condoms and lube. He feels the weight shift when Nick climbs back on the bed, a shiver running through him when Nick climbs between his legs and grazes his hands over the backs of Harry's thighs.

"So pretty," Nick says off-handed when Harry pushes back into his touch. "So eager for me. So desperate." He takes hold of Harry's hips, pulling gently to get Harry up on all fours. 

Harry slides back until he's arse up with his face resting on his folded arms. It's a show of how much he trusts Nick, putting himself on display like this. "Always desperate for you," he admits. "Want you all the time."

Nick’s whispered _yeah_ is nearly lost on Harry when Nick palms him with both hands, spreading him wide, and licks at his hole. They’ve only done this once or twice, back before this type of intimacy was too honest for either of them. It’s better than Harry remembers, and its another reminder of how much they’d both been holding back.

He whimpers when Nick starts tongueing him in earnest, can’t hold back the broken _Nick_ that falls from his lips. It’s almost a relief when he feels Nick work a single slick finger inside. 

Nick must feel his whole body sigh, and quickly follows it up with a second, seeking out that spot that makes Harry moan. “Think I could make you come like this?” he asks, his voice rough like sandpaper. “Nothing but my fingers in you and your prick untouched?”

Harry can think of a million ways he wants Nick to make him come, all effective, but they have plenty of time for all that later. “M- maybe,” he stutters. “But that’s not - I want. Want your cock. _Nick_.”

Nick works at him a little more, stretching his fingers out to make sure Harry’s ready for him. When he pulls out and reaches for the condom, Harry rolls over on to his back, stroking idly at his cock. “Wanna see you,” he says as he watches Nick slick himself up. Nick nudges Harry’s knees apart and grazes his palms over the light fur of his inner thighs. 

“How long,” Harry asks. “How long have you had feelings for me?”

Nick smiles, leaning in and kissing him softly. “A long time. Took me a while to figure it out, though. Drove everyone crazy. When I realized I was hopelessly in love with you, well. I panicked and pushed you away. Sorry 'bout that," he says sheepishly. He trails a finger lightly over Harry’s dick and down until he’s rubbing at his opening again. “What about you?”

Harry sighs as Nick lines himself up, the blunt pressure of his head grounding Harry in the magnitude of the moment. He makes sure to meet Nick’s eyes when he answers, “It’s been so long that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t in love with you.”

Nick kisses him again and slides inside with one smooth, long stroke. Harry thinks it feels like coming home.

**

Neither of them knows how it will all play out, how they'll make it work with Harry gone so much. But they know they want to, more than anything.

So they decide to figure it out together. Sex and orgasms, weddings, and babies. 

_Forever._

THE END.


End file.
